


Senior Ditch Day

by shortstackedcheesecake96



Category: South Park
Genre: Camping, F/M, First Time, High School Graduation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 04:18:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16078250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortstackedcheesecake96/pseuds/shortstackedcheesecake96
Summary: Kyle seems to be the only guy in his class not looking forward to Senior Ditch Day, a treasured tradition among the graduating seniors of South Park. Especially when he has to share a tent with Eric Cartman. But maybe tonight he'll finally get the answers from Cartman he's been desperate to find for three years? (All characters are 18+)





	Senior Ditch Day

**Author's Note:**

> Never did I think when I first had the idea for this story it would take me so long to write. Maybe I should've expected that when I'm writing a multi-chapter at the same time but, oh well, I never learn. Anyway, it's here! I've finally finished it! This was inspired by Matt Stone's appearance on 'Losing it with John Stamos' where celebrities talk about losing their virginity, and when he mentioned that his high school did a 'Senior Ditch Day' I knew I had to include it in a fic! I hope you guys enjoy, and thank you for reading!

Senior Ditch Day was such a treasured, and well-established tradition in South Park that the parents didn't even pretend to notice their children were missing their final official day of high school to hang out, before all congregating in the wooded mountains with tents, and cheap alcohol secured with fake IDs. Of course, there were some exceptions. Butters' parents had been surprisingly lenient, but warned their now eighteen year old son who would be attending Wesleyan in the Fall that if he came home the next day still drunk and vomited in their living room he would be grounded.

Then there was Kyle's mom who still believed there was some inherent worth in attending the pointless last day of school even if he'd be the only one there. But she felt it would be a shame to ruin his perfect attendance record. And while Kyle supposed he wouldn't be missing much forgoing Senior Ditch Day, that bruised, insecure voice from childhood told him that Senior Ditch Day was everything, when he still felt the residual sting of being left out of everything from Chinpokomon to the metrosexual fad too acutely. Unfortunately, this meant asking his dad for help when the very notion stung Kyle even more. He struggled to make idle conversation with his dad over dinner, let alone ask him for advice or assistance. That never went down well when he was a kid and usually resulted in him feeling clueless and hurt. But in the name of getting wasted with his friends, and possibly nailing some chick, his father was more than happy to help. Kyle had cringed throughout the entire conversation, forced to consider that his dad 'was young once too' and 'knew exactly what it was like,' when he didn't at all. Kyle didn't think so, anyway. The conversation ended with a firm clap between his shoulder blades that made Kyle jolt rather than feel at all comforted. He had to force a smile when his dad expressed relief at finally being able to have a 'bro talk' with him that he thought would never come. Little did he know how much Kyle had to brace himself for such an event. Still, as irritating as his dad was, he was petty persuasive. He got his mom to come around to the idea of Ditch Day, after all, and Kyle had to be grateful for that.

He could take comfort too, in the fact that he wasn't the only one with a wearisome dad. They had decided to pre-game at Stan's house, and Mr Marsh's offer to get their booze soon transformed from a blessing into a curse. He refused to leave them alone, and lingered in the basement just long enough to swoop in with his own thoughts and reflections on Senior Ditch Day.

"... Yep, you never forget Ditch Day. Anything goes because you all just wanna blow off steam and have fun before college starts in the fall. And you really gotta have fun, you know? Go crazy, don't think, because you'll never know freedom like it. One day you're eighteen, and young, and in shape, with no responsibility and the world in front of you..." he shook his head and sighed. His eyes wandered to a spot in the corner of the room and glazed over. Not by the beer, Kyle was sure, but by wistfulness. "Then the next day you're stuck in a boring job, married to the same girl you met in high school, and struggling to put two kids through college."

In lieu of being able to say something to Mr Marsh without ruining his hospitality, the guys all stared at Stan as if to say "what the fuck, dude?" But Stan remained unmoved, exasperated rather than mortified, now immunised to anything that came out of his father's mouth.

"Wow, thanks, dad."

"I'm being serious, Stan!" Mr Marsh replied, urgent. "You need to listen to me! Have the time of your life tonight, do it all while you still have the chance! And speaking of... that girlfriend of yours?" he tilted his head with a knowing smile. "Now might be the time to hit that, right? I mean, it's taken you long enough..."

Stan was immunised from everything it seemed, except that. His face flared red, lips tightening into a scowl. Meanwhile, Butters had sprayed his drink all over the floor and even Kyle was too uncomfortable to glare at Kenny and Cartman for sniggering to themselves.

"Dad, what the hell?!"

"Aw, come on, son! It's just us guys!" Mr Marsh grinned, throwing his arms out as if he were waiting for everybody's exuberant retort. "We can talk like this! Now, you still have those condoms we got you for your birthday, right? Make sure you use them, okay? I know you guys all think I'm this cool, laidback dude, but I still know how important it is to be safe. The last thing you want is a kid on the way. Promise me, alright?"

Stan's eyes widened, inching away from his father and raising his hands as if he were trying to escape a mugger.

"Fine, I promise!"

"Randy!" Mrs Marsh called from the top of the stairs, voice razored with impatience. She was soon storming down the stairs to the rescue. "Randy, what are you doing down here? I told you not to bother Stanley and his friends! You told me you were doing the laundry!"

Mr Marsh blustered, almost pouting like a toddler.

"I'll get to it, Sharon, gawl! Excuse me for wanting to bond with my son!"

"Well, you can do that without embarrassing him in front of his friends, now come on!" she tugged at Mr Marsh's forearm, leading him away, but not before she frowned at Stan and petted his shoulder. "I'm sorry, sweetie..." she smiled at them all. "I'm sorry, boys!"

There was a mumbled chorus of "it's okay, mom," and "it's okay, Mrs Marsh."

"We'll leave you alone," she added, before tugging at her husband's arm again. "Come on, Randy."

But Mr Marsh wasn't done bonding with his son, or dispensing sage words of advice just yet.

"Have a, uh... _lit_ time tonight, guys! You kids still say 'lit', right? And remember what I told you!" he called, now at the top of the stairs. "Stan, remember what I told you!"

Mrs Marsh slammed the door shut, silencing the room.

Cartman, of course, was the first to speak.

"Jesus Christ, dude..." he muttered into his beer.

"I know," Stan replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's pathetic..." he shook his head and lowered his arm, indignant. "What the fuck is his problem? Why the hell does he think I'm gonna have sex with Wendy tonight?"

Butters furrowed his eyebrows, looking between all the guys like he had missed something.

"I thought you _were_ having sex with her tonight?"

Stan rolled his eyes, almost reaching to pinch the bridge of his nose again but thought better of it. Kyle smiled to himself, it was an endearing childhood habit that he hoped Stan would never grow out of.

"I _am_ , Butters, but why is my dad even thinking about it? It's none of his business, and it's gross."

Kenny waved him off, shaking his head.

"Nah, man, he's just taking an interest. Count yourself lucky," he replied, before taking a sip of his beer.

"I'm lucky that my dad is interested in my sex life, and not, like, I don't know, my grades, or college like normal dads are?" Stan asked, eyebrows raised. "That sounds ideal?"

Kyle sighed. He didn't suffer through that talk with his dad just to listen to his friends bitch and argue all night. "Forget about it, dude..."

"Yeah, fuck that, man!" Kenny added, unfazed. "That shit's irrelevant. _We're_ talking about it now, your bros, and that's what matters. Everything is all set up, right? You have confirmation that Wendy is sharing a tent with you?"

"Yep, she texted me last night."

Kenny grinned, possibly resisting the urge to clap his hands with glee at the fact that he was playing some small part in helping his friend finally go all the way with his long-term girlfriend.

"Cool, so that means Butters you're bunking with me-"

"Neat!"

"And Cartman is sharing a tent with Kyle."

If it was possible to choke on words that somebody else had said, then Kyle was sure that was happening to him at that moment. But it appeared he wasn't the only one, when his eyes met Cartman's and he looked exactly how Kyle felt. Wide, guilty eyes and a jaw pulled uncomfortably tight, as if holding in a scream or smothering truths. A truth that still eluded Kyle, despite his efforts.

The prospect of being in such a small space together was daunting considering what happened the last time they were in such a situation. It was straight out of a teenage romantic comedy, though Kyle knew he and Cartman were the worst possible leads. They were fifteen, and playing seven minutes in heaven at Clyde's house. After reasonable objections and a motion to spin the bottle again for literally any other outcome, both Kyle and Cartman were overruled and sent to the closet. Kyle felt it was a terrible situation admittedly, but there were far worse fates and injustices in the world. They lived in a free country, right? So that meant even if they were to follow the rules of the game, they didn't have to do _anything_ in the closet they didn't want to. They could just sit there, passing the seven minutes in silence or conversation, and it wasn't as if they would be interrogated about what happened because really, Kyle reasoned, who wanted to imagine that? Cartman had other ideas.

The closet was more narrow and cramped than Kyle had been expecting. He and Cartman were chest to chest after Kyle had shut the doors, and soon mouth to mouth. Kyle had tried to convince himself it was unexpected, but Cartman had been so quiet, and when they were pressed so close together, Kyle could have sworn he felt his heart jumping out of his shirt with every thump. It was so obvious. Kyle had always prided himself on being able to read Cartman so well, how could he have overlooked such suspicious behaviour? Wrote it off as nothing before it was too late and Cartman had pressed his lips against his, hands squeezing his shoulders? Maybe because Cartman kissing him was such an unnerving possibility to consider? Or maybe it made the fact that he didn't immediately stop it easier to take? Because then Kyle could definitely put it all down to delayed shock. The leaning in, the tilted head, the parting of lips, and the grasping of a shirt was all down to Kyle being taken totally off guard.  It had nothing to do with curiosity, chemistry, or desire. It had nothing to do with the hot, firm clasp of Cartman's mouth, or how he held him like he could wring eleven years of buried, stifled affection out of him, or how even beneath that split-second, initial shock, there was a quiet, small truth that this was somehow right. A certainty he couldn't grasp, so instead he let it go. He had shoved Cartman away from him, and in the space where they would've screamed at each other they had only searched each other's faces with gleaming, startled eyes. Kyle did eventually find his voice, demanding an answer and Cartman had stammered something about just trying to play the game. Kyle, now well-acquainted with his smug smirk, saw it trembling. Cartman had scowled when he felt Kyle was unsatisfied with his answer, shoving him out of the way and leaving him in the dark in more ways than one.

And in the dark Kyle remained after all this time. Of course, soon after the incident Kyle confronted Cartman with his usual fury. It was the only way he knew how to deal with the whole thing, and when it was so unfamiliar and uncomfortable his rage instilled him with some confidence. The glowering, solemn Cartman he was faced with, prickling at every hissed, indignant question shattered all of that. Cartman's arrogance, his goading tone, irritated Kyle but never intimidated him. Those rare instances where Cartman was too weary, too angry, too humiliated to even pretend he wasn't those things made Kyle nervous because he knew what sort of dangerous path it could set Cartman on. He'd been there when Scott Tenorman ate that chilli, after all. And maybe he pitied him too, when his frown only tightened with every word Kyle spoke, and maybe Kyle pitied him because he understood exactly how Cartman was feeling. Cartman's ego had fallen from so high a pedestal that it was easily shattered. Kyle's ego wasn't too far off, but damn it if he wasn't going to try to piece it back together until his fingers bled. So, even if he had relented that day, Kyle still kept up the fight until it was too exhausting for him to do so. Persistent he may have been, but he wasn't a masochist. Because the questions Cartman didn't answer, Kyle could only ask himself, and the shame, and guilt burned hotter than his need for answers that terrified him. He so wanted to let it all go, but he just couldn't.

"What?" Kenny asked, tearing Kyle away from his thoughts, and away from Cartman's eyes. "What's with the look?"

"Nothing!" Kyle snapped.

Cartman scoffed.

"Yeah, what the fuck are you talking about, dude?"

"Are you guys cool with this? Like, you don't hate each other so much that you can't share a tent, right? You only have to sleep in it!"

Stan lowered his head, trying to find Kyle's avoidant gaze.

"Kyle, you don't have a problem with this, do you?" he asked.

"No!" Kyle replied, laughing because of how ridiculous it all sounded. "God, no, it's just one night! I don't even care!"

"Me neither!" Cartman added. "Jesus, Stan, don't get your blue balls in a twist!"

"Eww..." Butters said, wrinkling his nose.

"I don't have blue balls!"

"Hey!" Kenny snapped, raising his hands and acting as a partition between Stan and Cartman as if they were actually going to leap across the table and beat the shit out of each other. "There'll be no blue balls! Not on my watch! And hey!" he brightened, now gesturing between Cartman and Kyle. "Maybe you guys might even get lucky and you won't have to share a tent!"

Kyle forced a weak smile. This was too reminiscent of the conversation he had with his dad. Senior Ditch Day was infamous for hook-ups, which only made it more anticipated. In Stan's case this was certainly true, as he and Wendy agreed that it would be the perfect time for them to 'consummate' their relationship. Kyle had no idea why anybody would opt to have sex in a tent over a comfortable bed, especially when it was an event as significant as sex for the first time with someone you've been dating since third grade, but he supposed that when you're with the right person, the right time or right place is irrelevant. Kyle admired such a romantic idea, though knew he would find no such encounters tonight. If it hadn't happened by now, he reasoned, after three years of high school, then it was hardly going to happen on Senior Ditch Day. He was yet to have a girlfriend, or a boyfriend, or even admit out loud that either was an option for him. His last 'romantic encounter' was with Cartman, and he didn't like to dwell on why that was. Nor did he like to dwell on the relief he still found in Cartman not dating anybody since Heidi in elementary school. It was inexplicable why it mattered, but it did.

"How about that, fatass?" Kenny grinned, clapping Cartman on the back. "You can finally pop your cherry!"

Kyle glanced at Cartman, his unofficial ally in virginity, and waited for his answer.

"What, and fuck some vapid, stuck-up bitch I've known since preschool?" Cartman replied, his voice wavering under the weight of his bravado. "No thanks. I'd rather wait until college and fuck somebody who has two brain cells to rub together."

* * *

As well as providing them with booze, Stan's family came through in the entertainment department too. His Uncle Jimbo had returned from Mexico with a crate of fireworks especially for his favourite nephew to use on Ditch Day. They had made a big impression at the start of the night, sitting in the back of Stan's truck, and everybody had crowded around to take a closer look. Now, with most of the couples either retiring to their tents, or sneaking off into the woods (twigs and leaves crunching under their heavy, drunk feet and their giggling giving them away), the only audience left was Kyle, Clyde, Jason, Butters, and Bebe. Kyle guessed she was only sticking around because she had little interest in watching a Tijuana bottle rocket tear through the starry, cobalt sky, and more interest in him. Kyle may have been lacking in the experience Kenny, or even Stan had when it came to dating, but he wasn't an idiot. He knew when somebody liked him.

"Are you fellers sure this is safe?" Butters asked, knuckles knocking together as he tried to get a closer look of the rocket.

Jason sighed, and threw an exasperated glance over his shoulder.

"They're illegal fireworks, Butters, what do you think?" 

"Oh my gosh, we're not gonna burn all these trees down, are we?!"

"We'll be fine, Butters," Bebe reassured, reaching into her bag and pulling out a bottle of rum. The girls had brought some mixers along with them in a cooler but Bebe drank it straight now. Although no doubt Clyde would've abandoned the fireworks and fetched the cooler for her if she asked. "Jason, shut the fuck up!"

"Ha!" Clyde laughed. "Yeah, shut up, Jason!... does this look about right?"

"Beats me." Jason shrugged, studying the rocket.

"Why don't you take a look, Kyle?" Bebe asked, smiling at him. Their wrists were touching and she tried to hook her pinkie around his. "You're good at science and stuff, right?"

"I guess..." Kyle replied, though he had no idea what science had to do with it.

He enjoyed Bebe's company though, even if it was only that. He did worry if his partaking in rather flirtatious conversation could be construed as leading her on though, no matter how desperate his attempts to keep things on a neutral, platonic level. But why couldn't he indulge in those giggles she doled out indiscriminately, her undivided attention, the incessant fiddling of her hair? It was nice to feel wanted in that way, although he prayed it wouldn't end in tears, awkwardness, or busied pride if he ever had to decline a more forward offer to... well, he didn't like to think about it.

He lifted himself up off the blanket they were sitting on, and crouched down besides Jason and Clyde. The rocket seemed to be positioned just fine, but just so he could feel like he actually contributed - and maybe solved the 'problem' - he tilted it ever so slightly.

"There!" Bebe said with a small clap. "Anybody got a match or something?"

"I have a lighter," Clyde offered, reaching into his jacket pocket. "Somewhere..."

Again, Jason sighed as Clyde began to pat at his chest, feeling for a lighter.

"Damn it, Donovan..."

Kyle soon saw Kenny walking past with Red. They had their arms looped around their waists as they muttered to each other. Red was interrupted momentarily by Kenny calling out to his bunkmate.

"Hey, Butters?"

"Yeah, Ken?"

"Don't come by the tent for a few minutes, okay?"

Butters nodded, beaming and giving Kenny a thumbs up.

"You got it!

"Awesome, bro," Kenny replied, returning the gesture. "Appreciate it!"

Red giggled.

"A few minutes?" she asked, tightening her grip around Kenny's waist and tugging him closer at the expense of her balance. "Damn, never had you pegged as a 'quickdraw', McCormick..."

"It's called modesty, babe," Kenny replied, eyes lidded and staring into her own. He grinned. "Exceeding your expectations..."

Red scoffed.

"Yeah, right..."

Their faces were pressed closer together as they giggled, but Kenny's gaze soon wandered to find Kyle staring at them. The night was cool but Kyle still flushed, rubbing his hands on his jeans and trying to avert his gaze, not knowing why he was so captivated in the first place.

"Uhh... I'm just gonna talk to Kyle for a sec, alright?" Kenny said, barely sparing Red a glance before he let her go.

Red huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously. I'll be two seconds," Kenny assured.

Red rolled her eyes, and Kyle felt pretty bad that he was the reason Kenny was keeping her waiting.

"Fine..."

"Hey, Red!" Bebe said. "Talk to me, hun! What's up?"

That seemed to cheer Red up, her eyes glinting and smile creasing as she made her way over to Bebe, no doubt eager to fill her in on the evening's events that had led her to Kenny's tent.

"Hey, man, how's it going?" Kenny asked, clapping Kyle on the shoulder and leading him away from Jason and Clyde.

Kyle shrugged. Ditch Day was going as well as he expected, although he would've preferred not to have been split up from the guys. But Stan and Kenny both had their expectations for the night that unfortunately didn't align with Kyle's, and because they were both sort of big deals Kyle could make those little sacrifices to his evening. As for Cartman... Kyle had no idea where he had wandered off to, or why, but he hoped to see him later when he crashed in their tent. If only to know he was safe, and hadn't got lost, eaten by a bear, or abducted by aliens. Again.

"Alright," he replied. "So... you and Red, huh?"

"Yeah, man." Kenny glanced at her with a wide smile, before returning to Kyle. "So what about you?" He lowered his head and smirked. "You feeling lucky tonight?"

"Umm... no?"

Kenny sighed and rolled his eyes. Kyle didn't know why him hooking up with somebody was a bigger deal to Kenny than it was to him.

"Come on, dude, what about Bebe?"

"Huh?" he replied, playing dumb.

Kenny raised his eyebrows, searching Kyle's face for any sign of recognition.

"She wants to fuck you? Why do you think she's been hanging around you all night?"

Kyle looked over his shoulder and saw that Bebe and Red were already staring at him with knowing eyes and wicked smiles that made his stomach clench with anxiety.

"Oh..." he whispered, before clearing his throat and returning his gaze to Kenny. "Oh, well, to be honest, I'm not interested."

"Kyle," Kenny replied, arching an eyebrow and uttering his name like he could pull a non-existent truth out of him.

"I'm not!" Kyle stressed. "Besides, Clyde seems into her and-"

"So? He's not the one she's been eye-fucking all night!"

Kyle squirmed at the idea. It felt rather invasive.

"I don't like her that way though," he replied. "Like, yeah, she's sweet, and cool, and-"

"Hot?"

Kyle rolled his eyes in begrudging agreement.

"Yeah, she's... pretty... but she doesn't really do anything for me... and I'm not gonna have sex with her just _because_."

"Okay, man," Kenny conceded, hands raised. "I get that."

It felt like a petty victory though, and Kyle was sort of annoyed at himself for getting so worked up. Why did he need to justify why he didn't want to sleep with someone? And why was it such a tender subject for him? Maybe he should just sleep with Bebe, because then perhaps that hang-up would be gone from his life forever. Sex wouldn't be such a prickly subject. He had enough of those to deal with.

"Hey, have you seen Cartman?" he asked. "He wandered off an hour ago and I don't know where..."

"What?" Kenny chuckled, hands now tucked in his pockets. "You wanna fuck him instead?"

Kyle winced, froze, and felt time slow down like a knife had been stuck between his ribs. Kenny had hit a rich nerve, the sorest of spots, and did so with such ease, nonchalance, such fucking _amusement_ that it empowered Kyle to turn that panic into anger.

"No!" he snapped.

He was unaware he had lurched forward until Kenny stepped back, eyes roaming Kyle's face warily.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Kenny?! As if I would ever-"

"Holy shit, calm down!" Kenny interjected, hands raised again. "It was just..." he rolled his eyes, but his voice was soft and apologetic. "I was kidding, alright? It was just a joke."

Kyle nodded, mouth clamped solemnly shut. He was simmering in embarrassment.

"Okay..." he muttered, when he finally found it in him to unclench his jaw.

"Okay," Kenny replied slowly, as if easing himself out of a more hostile situation. "But to, uh, answer your question, I'm pretty sure I saw him sat by the fire outside your tent. He was being all emo so he didn't wanna talk much."

That didn't make Kyle feel any better. A brooding, pissed off Cartman was bad news for everyone.

"Alright, thanks..." he replied, antsy to leave and try to diffuse whatever was going on with Cartman.

Kenny stared at Kyle, searching his face for answers, trying to pull that non-existent truth out of him again. But Kyle couldn't give it up, what would he say? Nothing he was prepared to give, even to one of his best friends. Still, he was fidgeting under Kenny's agitating stare and he was just about to demand he give it a rest, or spit out whatever question he needed to ask so fucking badly, before Red came along and tugged at Kenny's arm.

"Are we doing this or not?" she asked, before she remembered Kyle was there. She smiled at him. "Hi, Kyle."

Kyle nodded at her.

"Hi, Red."

"Kenny?" she pressed.

Kenny glanced between Kyle and Red a couple of times, before fixing her a smile.

"Sure, come on," he replied, finding her hand and holding it. He nodded at Kyle. "See you later, Kyle. Have a good night, okay?"

That imploration seemed to echo through the trees as Kyle left to find Cartman.

* * *

When Kyle arrived at their tent Cartman was still sat by the fire, being as indeed emo as Kenny said he was. He was glowering at the flames, they danced on his face and made him appear more demonic than ever. Kyle could only wonder what the glowing oranges and reds were doing to those unnerving golden eyes. He couldn't move. The lump lodged in his throat was like a dumbbell weighing his whole body down, rooting his feet to the floor. He didn't know whether that lump tasted of nerves or pity, or some acquired mixture of the two. 

"Are you gonna keep staring at me or are you gonna sit?"

Kyle jumped, caught off guard, but the smartass question thawed out his confidence, made that lump dissolve. He rolled his eyes and approached him.

"Sit," he replied, before plopping himself down beside Cartman and crossing his legs. "But not because you told me to."

"Sure..." Cartman murmured, smirking.

His eyes hadn't left the fire, but Kyle was just glad that he was smiling. He didn't like to think of how rewarding it felt to see Cartman smile about, well, anything. But he knew he didn't have to worry about that for much longer, since the smile would disappear as quickly as it appeared with what he was about to say next. He sighed, and told himself it had to be done.

"What's up with you, man?"

A small dent appeared in Cartman's eyebrows and he slide his gaze to Kyle.

"What are you talking about?"

Kyle huffed, incredulous, but the exasperated smile that spread across his face was unavoidable. Just like Cartman acting in a way that demanded attention and brushing it off with such flippant delusion was so unavoidable and typical.

"You disappeared and... you didn't even do it without ranting about something, or pissing anyone off, so something is clearly up with you..."

Only the smallest twitch on Cartman's face gave away how bristled he was. His jaw tightened again, and he ripped his gaze away from Kyle to throw into the fire again.

"I'm not in the mood to be interrogated, asshole."

Kyle rolled his eyes.

"I wasn't interrogating you I was just-"

"Fine!" Cartman snapped. "I was just pissed off."

Kyle was glad Cartman couldn't see his eyebrows twitch with intrigue. Finally, they were getting somewhere.

"With what?"

Cartman shook his head, rolling his eyes like it was so fucking obvious.

"This!" he replied. "Everything! Everybody fucking loses it over this one night and it's nothing. It's more of a let-down than that shitty _Ghostbusters_ movie."

Kyle laughed softly, glad he wasn't the only one who wasn't getting it.

"Remember that?" Cartman asked, turning to him with a small, crooked grin.

Kyle nodded, lips pressed tightly together.

"Yeah, I 'member..." he muttered, in his best squeaky berry voice.

Cartman glanced at Kyle again, smirking with bright, wide eyes.

"What?" Kyle asked. "I can't make jokes?"

Cartman laughed, warmer than the heat Kyle could feel on his face.

"No, no, you can..." he glanced at Kyle, smile and gaze almost wistful. "You have your moments. Sometimes you don't even have to try."

Kyle smiled, wondering if that was a compliment. He soon sighed.

"I know what you mean though. About tonight. It's not all it's cracked up to be."

"So Bebe hasn't blown you yet?"

"No!" Kyle snapped, wondering why his sex life seemed to be everybody's business but his own. "And she's not gonna blow me! Ever!"

"Woah, okay!" Cartman replied, raising his hands. "You're real defensive tonight-"

"Really? You're gonna accuse me of taking shit too seriously when you've been brooding by the fire for the last, what, hour?"

"Forty five minutes, actually," Cartman said, so calm it was infuriating. When Kyle was close to seething he didn't know if he could take anymore anger. "And besides, I was just kidding. You know that's how these things go. I say something offensive, you get your panties in a twist, and then it escalates until there's news cameras, and mobs, and moral pontificating. I don't know how you could get a mob to rally around Bebe blowing you - or _not_ blowing you -  though. But let me just say, before that happens, I don't give a shit about anything you decide to do with anyone."

Kyle blinked, mouth tugging into a frown as he felt something puncture inside him. Rage shrivelling into... disappointment?

"You don't?" he asked, too quiet for his liking. Maybe his voice had shrivelled too?

Cartman glanced at him, and in the place where a quick, callous remark should be there was only silence. A wary, thoughtful stare usually so guarded. As though Cartman was actually considering letting down the drawbridge, deliberating a precarious, careful answer. Kyle waited, holding Cartman's stare. But they were both soon distracted by moaning coming from Stan's tent, that was next to theirs. Kyle hoped he could blame the stifling heat crawling up his throat on the fire. Cartman seemed to feel no such discomfort and scoffed.

"Fucking finally..."

"What? You've been _listening_ to them?!"

"No!" Cartman snapped, flushing too. "Christ, they were already in there by the time I got here! Talking, and giggling, and shit..."

Kyle rolled his eyes at Cartman's bitterness.

"It's romantic! Come on, it's a special night for them-"

"Yeah, right," Cartman interjected, dripping with derision. "It's a special night for fucking everyone. I swear, there's something in the air up here that makes everybody horny..." he spared Kyle a lingering glance. "Except for you, apparently."

"Except for us," Kyle pointed out.

That realisation, their loneliness, weighed down on them and made the air more rarefied than if they were stood at the very peak of the mountain. It really was just the two of them, a truth both exhilarating and terrifying. And Kyle felt like he was stood in that darkened closet, chest to chest with Cartman all over again. Maybe this was the perfect place to finally get some answers? Maybe his other attempts to find the truth had failed because they hadn't been here on this very night? The conditions seemed promising, or at least they certainly inspired Kyle. Alone, and calm, and quiet, and with a ticking clock. After this summer they would all be dispersed, shedding their small-town skins. Kyle couldn't afford to wait. He felt like he was stood on a knife's edge, had been driven to it after years of denial, and fear, and pride. He could either run away from the precipice or fall, having no idea where he would land... or where he and Cartman would stand after this, or what would be left of them. That made his courage wilt a little, but he knew he would regret fleeing more.

He cleared his throat, but his voice still wobbled.

"So I guess the reason you're all pissed off has nothing to do with..."

"What?"

"It has nothing to do with... seven minutes in heaven?" He gulped, embarrassment swallowing his resolve. "We kissed..."

"Yeah, I fucking know what happened, Kyle..." Cartman replied, voice taut. "And no, it doesn't. Why do you insist on turning it into some huge issue? It was nothing, it was a mistake, so just give it a rest."

Emboldened, Kyle forgot any fear.

"No," he said, shaking his head.

"No?"

"God damn it, no! Not until we talk about it, and _really_ talk about it!"

"Talk about it?" Cartman asked, glowering at him. "You mean when I tell you what you wanna hear? Because, please, tell me what the fuck that is so I can shut you up!"

"I... fuck, I don't know what I want you to say, Cartman! Because I don't even know... I've never known how to feel about it, and the fact that you don't want to talk about it scares the hell out of me because you've always got something to fucking say! And I just wanna know why this, of all things, is something you're staying silent about!"

Cartman's fiery gaze simmered, his shoulders sagging like a fire being extinguished. Indignation, and pride being smothered by defeat. Kyle winced, he had wanted to win... or at least he thought he did. He assumed victory would be answers and clarity, not Cartman looking so beaten down. Kyle had never wanted that. But he felt just as exhausted.

"You're really gonna make me say it, aren't you?" he muttered, voice dark.

"What?" Kyle asked, brow furrowing. "Say what? Cartman, I have no fucking idea!"

"Except you do!" Cartman snapped, like testy embers biting at charred remains. "Don't fucking lie to me, Kyle! Don't play dumb, because you know you're smart! Hell, you're probably the smartest person in this town so don't pretend like you don't know exactly what's going on here and... please don't make me say it."

Although Kyle always hated to admit it, Cartman was right. He did know what was going on, or at least he thought he did. He felt giddy from the laps he was running in his head, thoughts chasing each other because he knew what he felt, he knew what he believed, but he couldn't find solace in any of that until he knew for sure. Until Cartman uttered the words, and Kyle, after all these years, could finally sink into them. Although Cartman was begging him not to, Kyle had to make him say it. He had to prise the words out of him somehow. But maybe he had to say it first? Test the waters? He gulped, hoping that he had been right all these years because if he was wrong... it was going to be a long, excruciating summer. He hoped words, not the contents of his anxious stomach, would come out when he opened his mouth to speak.

"You like me."

He said the words slowly, though his heart had never thumped faster. Cartman looked at him as if his gaze could bore into Kyle's chest and rip it out. Still, it was emboldening to know that he held all the cards here.

"Don't you?" he asked.

Cartman didn't answer, and his eyes seemed to be preoccupied with finding an escape rather than a reply. It appeared he couldn't find any, and he sighed with his whole body and quickly began to fidget.

"There you go!" he snapped. "Jesus, it fucking took you long enough..."

Kyle could only respond with terse breaths. It felt as though that one question had emptied him, drained him completely. Cartman rolled his eyes and huffed.

"I just..." he shook his head. "I thought I was doing a pretty sweet job of keeping how much I liked you to myself, and during that stupid game I guess I thought I saw a chance to..." he growled and shook his head again, reprimanding himself. "I don't fucking know but it was such a disaster and so fucking humiliating that I just... I promised myself I wouldn't think about it anymore. I hate it. And I especially hate it when you bring it up. To be honest, I don't even know what you're still fucking doing being my friend. I thought you would've freaked out and want nothing more to do with me-"

"Seriously?" Kyle said, laughter in his voice that he couldn't stop. "After all the shit we've been through - after all the shit you've _done_ \- you thought one kiss was going to make me stop hanging out with you?"

Cartman's breathing slowed and a smile trembled across his face, one that could collapse any minute. His eyes were still wide and gleaming with nerves, his body still shaking from the shock. Kyle wanted that gleam to soften, for Cartman to relax, and to hold that smile in the palm of his hands. That one confession, that Kyle had waited so long for, had unpicked what he had kept locked away, tucked away in a place as dark and crowded as Clyde's closet. He liked Cartman too, despite it being inconvenient, and ridiculous, he liked him and it was freeing how inexorable this rush of affection pouring from his heart was. Especially now he knew Cartman liked him back. Kyle had never wanted to hear anything more. It was then that Bebe and the guys finally got the first firework to light up the sky. They heard the whistle first, before it shot up through the tall, spindly trees and exploded, crackling multicolour.

He glanced at Cartman, saw the falling, rainbow sparks gleaming in his gaze, and knew he had to have the courage to admit he liked him too. It was the least he could do, and he felt he owed it to both of them to see where this could lead, to give whatever this was a chance. He didn't just want to blurt it out though, he wanted to ease them both into it. He thought of how Bebe had flirted with him, had made it apparent what she felt and what her intentions were without even uttering it. He raked his gaze over Cartman and shifted closer until he could feel his warmth, could smell the lingering sting of his cheap, sharp cologne, and Miss Cartman's lavender fabric softener. Their wrists touched, and Cartman immediately stiffened. His shoulders were raised and he averted his gaze.  

"I'm sorry I haven't let up about this," Kyle said, still staring at Cartman even when he was struggling to look at him. "I had no idea it made you feel so bad. But the only reason I did it was because-"

"You can't let anything go?"

Kyle smiled, and chuckled quietly.

"Yeah," he exhaled. "It's because that stupid... _wonderful_ kiss..."

Cartman finally looked at him, searching his eyes to see if he meant it.

"It confused the hell out of me," Kyle continued. "It brought out these feelings that I had no idea I could feel, feelings I haven't felt for anybody else. And I guess I wanted answers, but I also wanted... comfort? To know that I wasn't alone, and I'm sorry that it hurt you but I wasn't feeling too great either and I thought that by talking about it I could make sense of it, and... see if you felt the same way."

Kyle shifted his hand so it was on top of Cartman's. It was warm and shaking, and Kyle felt Cartman flinch but he didn't snatch his hand away. He didn't protest, or shout, or leave and that was all Kyle was thankful for right now. He didn't know if he would be so lucky with what he wanted to do next, didn't know if he could bear the rejection. Cartman arched an eyebrow at him, face pulled tight with worried disbelief, as if this was all going to be taken away from him and revealed to be a cruel joke. But Kyle was serious, and he had to let Cartman know that.

"What are you doing?" he asked, and Kyle didn't know if he had ever heard him so quiet.

"I... I don't know," Kyle whispered, but he was already leaning in. He was already staring at Cartman's mouth. "I just want to..."

Their lips met before Kyle could finish. Gentle and hesitant, it was almost a quick, accidental collision but Kyle loved every second of sampling Cartman's plush lips, his own lips cushioned in a surprisingly tender kiss. Their lips slid off each other, sharing hot breath as they shivered, foreheads pressed together and holding each other's gazes like they were magnetic. The tension was so heady that it sent them grinning, giggling, and soon their mouths were meeting again, sharing harder, swifter pecks, before Cartman cupped Kyle's cheek and deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into his mouth. Kyle's eyes widened, but his lids soon drooped shut with pleasure. He felt like he could melt like an ice pop in July under Cartman's hot, talented tongue. Another firework was sent into the sky, and Kyle felt like he was soaring just as high when they came up for air.

"I..." Cartman gasped, his flushed lips pulling into a wide, dizzy smile. "Oh, man, I can't believe this is fucking happening, Kyle..." he pecked Kyle again, before murmuring, "with you..."

Kyle smiled in agreement, their kiss crumbling but he didn't care, he knew there was plenty more where that came from. But he wanted a little more intimacy first.

"You wanna go in the tent?" he asked. "It's, uh, more private..."

Cartman glanced at the tent like it was a cave hoarding buried treasure, golden opportunities he had been searching for, for years. He nodded, and pulled them both to their feet even though Kyle was the one to lead them to the tent hand in hand, as if he had any idea what would transpire when they went inside. A lump had pushed itself into his throat once again, but he wasn't afraid when their hot, quivering fingers were knitted together.

They practically crawled into the tent, stumbling onto their sleeping bags in the dark. Kyle soon sat up, fumbling to switch on the small tent lamp. The yellow walls glowed with weak, artificial light, and Kyle saw Cartman lying on his back with one arm resting behind his head, eyes wandering the tent like it was decorated with stars. Not knowing what to say, or if there was indeed anything he could say, Kyle lay beside Cartman. In the cramped space, they were nose to nose and their terse breathing and patient yet expectant stares filled up the quiet. Kyle could still hear his heartbeat thudding in his ears, but it was slower now, steady, _surer_. This wasn't unusual for them, after all. Lips so close in a confined space. He smiled and chuckled before he could stop it, but Cartman mirrored him as though he were thinking the same thing.

A tilt of their heads and their lips were connected again. Kyle's eyes drifted shut, as though intoxicated by whatever aphrodisiac scent, or spell was in the air that turned everybody on. But Kyle didn't care about everybody else now, he and Cartman were sealed off from all that, and it emboldened him to deepen the kiss, comfortable and indulgent. Still, this new freedom they had found in each other was heady and Kyle didn't want to waste anymore time, neither did Cartman. Their kisses grew urgent, and they pawed greedily at each other. Kyle's eyes fluttered open when Cartman slid his hand between his thighs, groping at his now prominent bulge. He moaned, muffled, in the miniscule space between their lips. Surprised because nobody had ever touched him there, and even when they were pressed so hazily close and their desires were laid bare, Kyle never imagined Cartman making such a bold move. But Cartman's warm palm and teasing fingers pressing against the denim felt too good not to keen to.

"I guess we're not the exception anymore," Cartman murmured, and Kyle could hear the grin in his voice. But his hand slowed, and instead of whining, Kyle blinked open his eyes. Cartman's earnest expression stole the wispy stars from his vision. "Right? I mean, if you want to-"

Kyle nodded without a second thought, and cut him off with a kiss. Why waste anymore time thinking? Why waste another three years feeling scared, and doubtful? He always assumed losing his virginity would be a special, but planned and carefully thought through occasion, the closest thing to perfect such an event could possibly be. But knowing instantly, whole-heartedly, that the boy lying next to him in a tent, a friendship that had every emotion Kyle knew poured into it, and that had endured, and evolved, and changed throughout their lifetime of knowing each other, was the person he wanted the most... that was more convincing and exhilarating than any candle-lit consummation.

* * *

It may have been ten minutes, hours, or nights since they had finished riding out their orgasms with a hot, stinging kiss, since Kyle rolled off of Cartman - _Eric_ \-  to lay beside him. Time was just another concept, a constraint, kept outside the tent, and banished from their cosy universe. Their laboured panting filled the tent, and Kyle felt like his poor lungs were scraping for breath. He could hardly move, sweaty body sticking to the sleeping bags. Their jackets had been abandoned long ago when the tent grew stuffy, and their pants and underwear were wrapped around their ankles. Kyle's head fell to Eric's shoulder, and he smiled lazily when he felt a chubby cheek nestle into his curls. His gaze wandered over Eric's wide, heaving chest, the cum drying on his belly, and landed on his cock still as stiff and red as his own.

His eyelids drooped, heavy with exhaustion, but it seemed like reality was crowding around him rather than slumber. He had done it. He had lost his virginity in the most unexpected circumstance. He could never have predicted the setting, the time. But the person... he was straight out of Kyle's wildest dreams, his deepest secrets, and he couldn't believe how lucky he was. Finally, they had taken that daunting, exhilarating chance.

"Thank you..." Eric whispered, hoarse.

Kyle blinked his eyes open.

"Huh?" he asked, propping himself up on his elbow.

When he looked at Eric he was smiling, irises still hazy with arousal and cheeks still flushed. Humbled and beautiful. He shrugged, lowering his eyes.

"I've thought about this a lot, but I never thought..." he bit his lip, and gazed into Kyle's eyes. "I never thought it would be as perfect as this, and... I sure as hell never thought it would be with you. So... thanks."

The words seemed to grip Kyle's heart, ridding his mind of any response. Tears pricked his eyes before he could stop it, and he planted a slow, tender kiss on Eric's lips before they could roam his cheeks. He ran his hand through Eric's hair, and when their lips slid off each other he twirled a damp, chestnut lock around his finger.

"Thank _you_ ," he replied, beaming.

Staring into Eric's glimmering eyes, just as enchanted and giddy as Kyle felt, his heart swelled with what must be love. A sensation he had perhaps smothered since their kiss all those years ago, but was now free to blossom in their final summer together. Kyle hoped this wasn't the last time. No matter how far apart college pulled them, he would never relinquish this feeling. He would never stop cherishing Eric, what they had found in each other, when it had taken so long for them to finally share it.

His hand slid from Eric's hair, down his neck, until his palm rested on his chest. His heart thumped, strong and committed, beneath his fingers.

"So, you, uh... feel like doing something this weekend?" Kyle asked, unsure if he was doing this right. "Just the two of us?"

Eric nodded, pressing his lips to Kyle's once more just as another firework whistled through the night. The walls of the tent flickered with colour as they kissed.


End file.
